Slytherin Reflections
by Mohican12
Summary: A series of oneshots in which the Slytherins reflect on their relationship with Draco Malfoy.
1. Theodore Nott

_Disclaimer: I do not own HP in any way, shape, or form._

_Author's Note: All reflections take place after the end of Half-Blood Prince._

* * *

I knew the Malfoy name from my father, who is an old friend of Lucius's. I was told, on my first day at Hogwarts, to become good friends with the Malfoy heir, as it would prove profitable to the Nott name. From my first meeting with Draco Malfoy, I knew that would prove impossible. 

Draco was a narcissistic, pompous, unrefined ass, and those are the nicest things I think of him. He seemed to have on idea of the real world except that he was king. People were not scared of him, per se, but of the power his name held.

It is rather hared to believe Draco is the end product of pureblood ancestry dating back centuries from the two most noble wizarding families in Britain, but I suppose that is what you get from inbreeding.

I made a point of not becoming friendly with him, but gave him respect and remained on good terms with Draco. I still didn't like him, but he was the Slytherin king in our year after all; I could not afford to get on his bad side.

I believe Draco was aware that I didn't care for him in the least bit, but didn't let that bother him because he did not care for me either. Besides, the two of us had reputations to uphold. We were not friends, but mere acquaintances using one another for the other's benefit.

We maintained this relationship up until the end of our fifth year, when our fathers were captured in the Ministry raid and sent to Azkaban. Draco cornered me in the library soon after this incident.

I was surprised to see him without his thugs Crabbe and Goyle. I cleared a space for him to sit down. He started speaking immediately, deciding not to mince words.

"Look Theo," he said, deigning to use my first name, "I know you don't like me, and I don't like you. However, I think it's about time that we call a truce as we're both in the same boat."

He cut off, his eyes flickering to something behind me. I turned to see Potter and his friends entering the library. I've never really had anything against Potter until then; he was the reason my father was incarcerated.

I sneered at him and Potter, looking strangely put out, kept moving on, ignoring our glares. I turned back to Draco as soon as Potter was out of sight.

"As you see, we share a common enemy," said Draco, continuing as if there was no interruption. "Don't you believe that it is worth our family's reputation to become friends?"

At that point in time, I would've desired nothing more than to make Potter pay for what he had done. Working with Draco may have been the easiest and most profitable way to do so. However something within me protested against this.

"Yes, it would," I said slowly, "but I believe Potter will get what is coming to him, eventually, and I have no desire to align myself with you."

Draco must have been certain that I was going to join with him, because shock was etched into every feature of his face. He managed to regain his composure and continue calmly.

"I thought you would understand Nott," he said coldly, reverting back to my surname, "I believed that you, of all people, would understand, but I guess I was wrong."

Before I had a chance to utter another word, Draco was gone.

Since then, we never spoke or even acknowledged each other's presence. Our unspoken pact to respect each other was broken and the house was divided. The Nott name is prestigious, but not as much as the Malfoy's.

Without Draco's protection, I lost many friends and became somewhat of a loner and got involved in many fights.

Now, with Draco gone, possibly forever from my life, I wonder if he knew what was coming and was possibly seeking some sort of comfort from me. Perhaps he wanted my help; those two goons of his were certainly no use.

Do I regret my decision in the least? A bit, on occasion. If I had become his friend, I could've helped him, and he would not be in his current situation. However, as I said before, I knew from day one, back when Draco greeted me on the train, that we could never be friends.

* * *

**Next time: What are Daphne Greengrass's thoughts on Draco Malfoy?**


	2. Daphne Greengrass

_Author's Note: I try to keep this as cannon as possible, but it can be considered somewhat AU as these are my ideas on what Draco's relationship with his fellow Slytherins were like._

* * *

My family has always been rather withdrawn from pureblood society, but we were still as prominent as other pureblood families. However, due to our reclusive nature, I did not know of the Malfoy family until my first year at Hogwarts. 

Draco Malfoy quickly established himself a high place in Slytherin house. I gathered what I could from rumors of his family and learned that he was not someone to cross. Draco quickly assembled a small, yet dominating, group of friends within our house. I was among them.

I was not friends with Draco, personally, just part of his image. He needed to be feared, and in order to do so, he needed the most powerful families. Not only was I a Greengrass, but Pansy Parkinson is a distant cousin of mine, and it was well-known that he favored her.

And so, indirectly, I became popular easily and gained respect among my peers. It didn't bother me that I didn't really know Draco; in fact, I thought him to be a bit of a brat up until this year.

* * *

There were rumors circulating through Slytherin about Draco's mission for the Dark Lord. Most scoffed at such an idea, believing it impossible, as Draco was loathe to tell anyone—even those within our tightly-knit group—of what it entailed. 

If I had been paying more attention, perhaps I would've noticed that there was a bit less respect directed towards Draco and those associated with him. His position in our house, which had become stronger with each year, was slowly deteriorating and we were all ignoring it.

In Slytherin, in order to gain power, you must take down—not the ruler—but those close to him. So Draco's slow descent endangered others as well, myself included. Unfortunately, I didn't realize this until it was almost too late.

I was studying in the library later than I intended, trying to finish a rather difficult essay for Transfiguration. Time escaped me, and when I finally did get a glance at the clock, I rushed out of the library, hoping not to be caught out after curfew.

I had reached the lower levels of Hogwarts, a place hardly explored by most students, namely prefects. The place is rather foreboding, especially at night. However, the Slytherin common room is located down there, so I hurried down the dark corridors, hardly bothered by the ominous setting.

I was rounding the corner of the hall on which the common room was located when someone grabbed me from behind, pushing me into a corridor hidden behind a tapestry. My things fell into a jumbled heap, and I managed to give a muffled scream before the person that had grabbed me cast a Silencing Charm.

He—I assumed—had pushed me against the wall and was leering over me. I was in such a position that there was no way I could reach my wand. His hands were pinning my arms down, and I have never been a particularly strong person.

I kicked as violently as I could against him, but it seemed to have no effect.

"It's dangerous for a pretty thing like you to be out this late," he said silkily. I felt myself freeze, recognizing the voice. It was Jamison, a Slytherin seventh-year that had been pursuing me for months. I had resisted, not only with the knowledge that he is a half-blood, but because he has a reputation for being a womanizer.

He gave a cruel little laugh at my sudden stiffness before running his wand down my cheek in a sickening gesture. "We'll have lots of fun tonight, Miss Greengrass."

This seemed to jolt me back to my senses. It seems rather stupid now, but the wand was rather close to my mouth and my arms were useless at the moment. I grabbed it with my teeth, biting down hard, trying to break it.

Jamison must have been shocked by my stupidity because it took him a moment to retaliate. He had pulled me away from the wall, and slammed me down again, trying to break my hold on the wand. I stubbornly kept my teeth in the wand, even though sparks were starting to fly.

"Little bitch, let go!" he yelled, slamming me down once again.

This one knocked the wind out of me, and I had no choice but to relinquish the wand. Miraculously, at that same moment, someone pulled back the tapestry and discovered us. It was Draco Malfoy.

All it took was a second. Draco had Jamison against the wall, his wand thrust into Jamison's neck, and I fell to the floor awkwardly, along with Jamison's wand. I scrambled back, not wanting to be caught in whatever Draco was about to do.

"How cowardly Jamison," said Draco icily. "I would have expected better from you." If possible, he stuck his wand even further in Jamison's throat.

"If you want to challenge me, then fight _me, _not my friends. If I ever, _ever_, hear or see you attacking Daphne or any of my friends again, I will kill you. Do you understand?"

Jamison looked for a moment as if he wanted to protest, but realized that he was not in the best of positions to be arguing. He nodded dumbly before Draco threw him on the ground.

Jamison quickly scrambled for his wand. He picked it up clumsily, threw a sneer in my direction as if promising that this wasn't over, before running down the hall.

During this entire exchange, I sat on the stone floor, completely incapable of moving. Draco, who had been glaring after Jamison's retreating form, turned his attention to me with a sigh, his domineering presence vanishing to be replaced with a tired-looking teen.

He extended his hand to me and I accepted it shakily.

"I seemed to arrive in time," he said brusquely. "Did he hurt you?"

I shook my head. I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound came out. He looked at me oddly before realizing that I must have a Silencing Charm on me. He muttered the countercurse and I said, "Thanks. I'm fine, just a little shaken," I added, as he gave me a dubious look.

As I gathered my things—which were ruined by the way—I asked, "How did you find me?" It was a little weird that Draco happened to be around here at this time of night.

Draco shrugged. "I was just passing by." I thought it was questionable at the time, but decided not to say anything.

There was another awkward silence before he spoke again. "I'm really sorry about all this Daphne."

I was never aware until that moment that Draco knew my name, as we had never spoken. Not until that night did I realize that Draco counted me among his friends.

There was something so dejected in the way he apologized, that I tried to appear nonchalant about it.

"It's fine…Draco."

Those were the only words we ever exchanged to each other. It was soon after this that Draco fled from the school, probably never to return.

I wish I had known what Draco was getting into, but what would I have done? Nothing, I wouldn't have been able to. But I would've liked to repay him for what he did that night; he was my friend after all.

* * *

**Next time: What was Blaise Zabini's relationship with the blond Slytherin?**


	3. Blaise Zabini

I first crossed paths with Draco Malfoy when I was about ten. The Malfoys had been invited to my mother's party to celebrate her third marriage.

He was one of the last kids to arrive; all the children had been taken into the lay room so they would be out of the way.

I was playing Exploding Snap with Pansy Parkinson when Draco was escorted inside. He glanced around disdainfully, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else. I studied him carefully, not aware of whom he was, trying to size him up before I introduced myself.

The blond was well-dressed, even more so than myself. This was a good sign, as it showed he was wealthy. There was also a bit of recognition among some of my fellow playmates and when I asked Pansy who he was, she looked at me as if I was crazy before stating, "That's Draco Malfoy, of course."

That immediately allayed any fears I had of being too friendly with a person not worthy of my status; my mother wasn't very careful with who she socialized with.

I knew the Malfoy name, mostly from conversations with Pansy, who visited me often and was good friends with Draco. They are the best of the purebloods and as soon as I heard Draco's name, I made it my goal to become his friend.

I must admit, it was difficult to get to know the Malfoy heir. He was rude, overbearing, and didn't seem too much interested in me. Frankly, I don't blame him.

The Zabinis are certainly a wealthy and respectable pureblood family. However, my mother is somewhat of an embarrassment to our family. Her seemingly endless, yet short, marriages, give us a rather bad name and some—relatives and others—question if I'm a true Zabini at all.

That was why I was so determined to make Draco my friend; his friendship was bound to gain me some respect. Besides that, Draco was the epitome, in my opinion, of what it was to be a true pureblood.

With the exception of his general personality, I admired Draco. He was everything that I wished to be; wealthy, powerful; and an unquestionable heritage. He is the spitting image of his father; there's no way that he wasn't a Malfoy.

I was a little jealous, and even now, after he's gone, I'm still slightly jealous. He garnered the attention, not just of those within our house, but even the Dark Lord's.

My jealousy never got in the way of our slowly budding friendship however. I felt forced to prove myself in Draco's eyes, and I refused to let something as petty as jealousy get in the way of that.

Draco tended to judge people by the impression they made on others, and since he was so full of himself, I did my best to model him. I acted as aloof towards those below me and congenial to those on my level, as he did. I still submitted myself to Draco's will, as was expected of me, but--slowly--I could see Draco was starting to approve of me.

By sixth year, I felt certain that my position with Draco was secure. He had started talking to me more often than he did to those two rocks that call themselves Crabbe and Goyle, and was even using my first name.

Unfortunately, this came a little too late and my vision of Draco Malfoy started to become disillusioned, even though I hadn't realized it until now.

It was not only the increasing opposition to his authority, as he easily overcame that. The seemingly confident, rough exterior that Draco had always had seemed to be cracking.

Draco would drag me out of bed, late at night, to lament about his growing worry over his inability to complete the mission the Dark Lord had set to him and how he had no one to turn to. As a good friend, I offered my assistance, but he denied me, stating that he didn't want me to get involved. So instead, I tried to comfort him, all the while wondering what had become of my idol.

It was sad, watching the arrogant, self-assured Draco Malfoy crumble beneath the Dark Lord's pressure. He whined—to me only—of how he was afraid for his mother and how he didn't want to die. Draco withdrew from everyone, except me.

I was surprised; yes, I was Draco's "best" friend, but I had never expected him to be so attached to me. At first, I felt privileged to be privy to what Draco told me, but after awhile, it became tedious, as he always told me the same thing. I wondered though, why did he come to me, instead of going to others with Death Eater parents, such as Nott?

I actually asked him this on one of his quieter nights. It was very rare for him to have one of these, as he was usually crying or angry with frustration. He was nursing a bottle of Firewhiskey and I was unsure of when I would get another opportunity.

I had ceased to be in awe of him long ago, since he had started complaining to me, but I broached the topic carefully, unsure of how he would react. Draco tended to have mood swings on nights like this.

He turned heavily-lidded eyes toward me, and I felt a little sorry for him. This was the reigning king of Slytherin, yet here he was, drowning his sorrows in Firewhiskey.

"I can't," Draco said simply, after a while. "They-they look up to me. When they join our cause, they'll look to me for help. I can't let them know I'm as scared as they are."

He paused to take another swig from his bottle of Firewhiskey.

"You're not like that Blaise," he said, his words slurring together a little. "You're your own man; you don't need to follow anyone. Sometimes, I wish I was more like you; you're not nearly as mindless as the other idiots that follow me around."

His eyes drooped and he fell over in his chair, the empty bottle dropping from his hands as he snored loudly.

I stared at him for a moment, pondering if it was the effect of the alcohol, or if it was Draco's honest opinion of me. I was also unsure if to take his last comment as a compliment or an insult.

I took him back up to the dorm, thinking that it couldn't be further from the truth.

I had hated those nights, but those were the only times I saw the real Draco Malfoy and realized how false our friendship was, despite how close we were supposed to be. We each held distorted illusions of each other.

I believed Draco to be the perfect pureblood, when really, he was probably as normal as me. Draco thought I was independent, when all I was doing was pretending to be like him.

When I think back on those nights, despite the fact that I hated them then, I wish there had been more of them. Perhaps then we would have seen past each other's facades and become real friends.

* * *

A/N: More than likely, the next one will be the last chapter, unless I'm suddenly inspired with an idea for Tracey Davis, it will definitely be Pansy and Draco. 

I hope everyone understands, Blaise aspired to be like Draco, but he didn't really like him. Draco, though, actually thought Blaise was his friend, really, his _only _friend, and that was why he confided in him.

Draco saw himself, or the person that he appeared to others, in Blaise (because Blaise copied him), and that is why he believed Blaise to be independent, and vice-versa. Like Blaise said, the two didn't' really know each other at all, so they weren't really friends. Hope that clears things up a little.


	4. Pansy Parkinson

Boyfriend. Lover. Future husband. Betrothed. Fiancé. These were all the things Draco Malfoy supposedly was to me. Naturally, as most rumors are, he is none of these. At least, not to me.

I find it very strange though, that even though I cannot call Draco any of these loving names, he is all my mind can concentrate on lately.

I suppose that could be said for the rest of Slytherin house as well, but none of them knew Draco as I "knew" Draco.

If I were to choose one word to describe Draco, in relation to myself, it would have to be stranger.

Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. A match made in pureblood heaven, right? I guess, if you don't look hard enough, that is the overall picture and outsider would get. With all the history between us, that is how it should be.

There are very few moments I can think of in my seventeen years where Draco was not by my side. He was always just there; I mean it's like you and your older brother; you can't think of a time when you were without him.

I was either at his manor or he was at mine. We would force our house-elves to make up games for us, try to steal our parents' wands, and even eavesdrop on their conversations, though at that time, we really didn't understand what they were talking about.

When there were parties, I was always next to him and the other little purebloods would listen to anything we asked, no matter how ridiculous. And yet…and yet…

Something was always missing from our relationship; despite all the things that we did together we never had some sort of intimate connection. We were together because that was what was expected of us. It was just business.

"I envy you Pansy," Tracey Davis, my fellow housemate told me not too long ago. "Draco is a man that comes along every once in a while." She sighed wistfully. "You're so lucky."

Envy me? Of what? Draco's rich, but he's nothing special. He's just as good as Blaise or Theo.

That's what I wanted to say when Tracey said that. Instead, all I did was nod and say, "Yeah, I'm lucky to have a guy like Draco."

A peck on the cheek, his arm around my shoulder, cuddling beside him on the couch in the common room for all to see, at my house, at his house…

These were all pretty misleading to anyone watching. Really, it was all an act. I never felt anything around Draco and I'm sure it was the same for him. Of course, others will tell you different.

"I've never seen you so excited over anyone," Blaise said soon after he met Draco. "You really like that Malfoy guy huh?"

Him? Draco Malfoy? I could never like such a fake person!

Of course, I didn't say that. I smiled and said, "Who wouldn't? He's perfect!"

How can I accuse Draco of being fake? I went along with him, didn't I? I'm as much to blame for the superficial relationship we had as he is.

I warned other girls away from him, bragged about him to anyone willing to listen, and was all over him all the time.

I had to make it clear; Draco was king and I was queen. We worked together for the other's benefit. There was nothing meaningful behind it. Really, there wasn't.

But, there might have been times, very few times grant you, that I thought that Draco and I were not just acting for personal gain.

Third year. Care of Magical Creatures. That stupid hippogriff attacked him.

I don't know why or even how it happened, but soon I was in the hospital wing, tears obscuring my vision, looking for Draco.

He must've been surprised to see me in such a state when I ran to his bedside. I mean, there was no one around; who could I be crying for?

"How is it?" I asked, hastily wiping away the tears.

"It's fine, though it still stings a little. Damn hippogriff; only that oaf would think to bring such beasts to class."

"It's your own fault for being such an idiot!" I said, the words flying out of my mouth without my permission. "Why do you have to be so damn cocky all the time? If you had followed Hagrid's instructions, you wouldn't be in such a situation!"

Damn, I was crying again. Why was I crying? Why was I yelling at him like this? He was fine, the wound wasn't serious, not that I would care anyway.

Draco looked as bewildered as I felt. "Pansy, it's okay. I'm not in pain, so you can stop crying now. Geez, it's embarrassing when you cry like that."

"Shut up," I said, the tears finally stemming. "Besides, you would've been mad if I hadn't come. You're such a drama queen; you would've moaned about your girlfriend not visiting you while you were _mortally wounded _for ages."

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked at me. I could've whacked myself over the head; we weren't "dating" then, at least as far as I knew.

"I mean, it would've been weird if I didn't visit you," I said quickly, a little flustered. "People would start talking and—"

Draco started chuckling, cutting me off. I glared at him through my red-rimmed eyes until he stopped, even though I was more confused than angry.

"What exactly is so funny?"

"Well," said Draco, still chuckling, "you're always so guarded around me and even when you're excited about something, it's obviously fake. It's rare to see you actually embarrassed. Or crying like you were earlier."

He laughed again as I sat in silence, unsure of how to react to such a statement.

"You know," he said, settling down again, "it doesn't matter if you call yourself my girlfriend or not. I mean, everyone already thinks so—"

"Do you?"

What was wrong with my body that day? First I was crying and now I was saying things I didn't really mean. Was I sick?

"Maybe," said Draco, shrugging. "If you were like this more often, I might consider it."

Was he serious? I didn't really know; all I knew was that things were not going the way they usually did and it was making me uncomfortable. I didn't like this frank way of talking with Draco.

"I have to go," I said, quickly standing up and heading towards the door. "I'll be late for Charms if I stay any longer."

I rushed out before Draco could utter a good bye.

In retrospect, that was probably the most normal conversation the two of us had. The words weren't forced; it was natural, different from the usual cool words exchanged between us. What scared me was that easiness between us. Until that time, I had no idea we could talk like that.

Draco, after all, was just a stranger I used for my own benefit. That conversation didn't mean anything.

After that, we fell back into our usual routine. I thought for a moment that I might have imagined the entire thing as our distantness increased. But it decreased once again after fifth year, soon after the arrest of Draco's father.

Draco stayed at my house temporarily as his mother had "arrangements" to make and didn't want Draco around.

It came about unexpectedly. Draco had been keeping his distance from me since his arrival, always locked away in my room—the two of us shared a bedroom. Not as intimated as you'd think; the two of us have shared a bed since we were little and even at sixteen, it wasn't awkward.

He never talked and usually skipped meals. I wasn't worried though; I went about my usual summer business and if anyone ever brought up Draco, I quickly dismissed the subject. The subject of Draco was closed.

Anyway, I had come in that night to take a shower. Draco was lying in bed as usual, a lump beneath the thick covers.

I was rummaging in my drawers, pretending to take no notice of him as I searched for some underwear when Draco's raspy voice broke through the silence.

"Pansy, do you hate me?"

"Why would I Drac?" I said, struggling to keep my voice from shaking. It had been so long since I had heard his voice and he sounded so weak.

"My father's been disgraced by his affiliation with the Dark Lord," said Draco in his raspy, monotone voice. The bed creaked as he shifted and lifted himself up to look at me, though my back was still to him.

"And I'm staying with your family which could raise the Ministry's suspicion. I know it worries you; do you hate me because of it?"

Of course these things had occurred to me; I waited for the Ministry to come knocking on our door, demanding for us to hand Draco over. When these thoughts occurred to me, I simply pushed them away.

It was no secret either, that my parents were hesitant about taking Draco in; it had taken a lot of bribing from Narcissa to let Draco live here temporarily.

"It's not your fault," was all I could say.

"But do you hate me?"

I turned around and looked at him, shocked at the desperation in his voice. His eyes glistened slightly and I knew he was restraining himself from crying in front of me.

"No," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Nothing could make me hate you. This whole mess isn't your fault, and even if it was, I would still—"

I broke off, my eyes meeting with Draco's. I'd almost said, "I'd still love you," but saying such a thing would be admitting that this relationship extended beyond benefits. It would be admitting that there were feelings involved and Draco was more than that stranger I had spent my entire life with.

"I still wouldn't hate you," I rectified.

For a moment, there was a look of disappointment in Draco's eyes, but it disappeared as soon as I saw it.

"I see," was all he said. "Thanks Pansy."

Draco left the following day. I didn't even see him leave and we didn't see each other for the rest of the summer. It was odd, not having him there. But I wasn't lonely. Like I said, Draco is a stranger to me.

Our relationship definitely toned down during sixth year. Something was torturing him, though I didn't know what. Whenever I was around, he would move away and he spent most of his time with Blaise Zabini.

If anyone asked, I said Draco and I were "taking time off" but I think that Draco couldn't stand my fake attitude any longer, especially now that I know the grim reality of his situation at that time.

As I sit here in my dorm, shrouded in darkness except for a thin slit of moonlight, the short note Draco left behind the night he left explaining his absence, I wish I were so superficial around him all the time. He would've liked me more then, like he said back in third year.

I wish also, that I could have said I love you last summer. Maybe then he would still be here.

But that's impossible; you can't love a stranger.

* * *

A/N: It actually made me sad to write this chapter, but for some reason, this was how I wanted the relationship to be between Draco and Pansy. I might actually write a romance between the two now because this one inspired me. Anyway, this is the end of _Slytherin_ _Reflections_, I hope you guys liked it. 


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